January 30, 2022: Woodpecker Week

The last week of January brought out the woodpeckers, though this red-bellied woodpecker has been frequenting our feeder all winter.

Red-bellied woodpecker, our most recent addition to the Lakes Region woodpecker family.

I saw my first red-bellied woodpecker in late 2020 and learned that it has only recently moved this far north from its traditional territory south of Massachusetts (See the December 20, 2020 journal entry for more about this woodpecker) and I'm hearing lots of reports of them being seen all around central New Hampshire now.  This bird is larger than our long-resident hairy woodpecker and second in size only to the pileated woodpecker - which also made an appearance this week.

A female pileated woodpecker, identifed by the black versus red mustache.

Pileated woodpeckers rarely visit feeders, even suet, unless it's in a large woodpecker-friendly holder; these imposing, active birds feed mostly on insects and are uniquely adapted to extracting them from deep within trees.  They have very strong necks and beaks which they use to excavate holes, but the really fascinating aspect is their tongue.  The pileated woodpecker's tongue is attached to the end of a long flexible bone that extends from the tip of its beak, continues along the bottom of its head, then wraps up and around the back and top of its head and terminates at its forehead in front of its eyes.  Picture a flexible bone shaped like a question mark (?) rotated 90 degrees clockwise.   Attached to this bone is a muscle that can push this movable bone far out of its beak to probe into cracks and ant tunnels deep inside a tree.  The tongue itself is barbed and sticky so its prey gets stuck to the tongue and pulled back into the birds mouth.  [Ref:  Sibley, 2020, What it's like to be a Bird, Knopf, pg 91.]  

I watched this bird start at the base of a dead branch on an oak tree, exploring every hole, rotten spot, and crack as it made its way to the end of the branch.

A truly remarkable bird.

I noted last week the dearth of soft snow for tracking, but on a trip up Mt. Roberts in the Ossipee Mountains I found plenty of animal tracks at higher elevations where there had been less rain and a bit of fresh snow to reveal the animals' travels.  First I saw a very conspicuous statement by a fox claiming its territory.

Fox use well exposed rocks and logs to leave their calling card for other foxes to see and smell.

Lots of mouse tracks at this marking stone.

I'd think the mice running between that rock and that tree might decide it's not a great neighborhood, but it explains why the fox wants to keep that corner for itself.

Next were lots of deer tracks and many more occurrences of deer hunting for acorns under the snow. 

A large area turned up by deer gleaning acorns.

Then I came across this strange mark in the snow which I can't figure out.

The tracks beside it look like coyote prints.

And it starts at a disturbed area in the snow.

One guess is a coyote dug something out of the snow and dragged it away.  But what?  A branch?  A long bone?  Another less interesting but more likely possibility considering this is right beside the trail is that a domestic dog picked up a stick hoping its owner would throw it!

Higher up on the ledges on the western flank of Mt. Roberts I had a good look at Lake Winnipesaukee, and yes it's all frozen over, even the broads.

Looking over Winnipesaukee toward the Belknap Range.

And looking north from the summit of Mt. Roberts, there was Mt. Washington, standing proud, displaying the countenance that gives the White Mountains their name.

A clear view of Mt. Washington and the Southern Presidentials.

For those who experienced the brunt of yesterday's Nor'easter I hope everything's ok.  We had just a glancing blow here at the Lakes with a few inches of snow, though it was hard to measure due to gusty winds blowing it around.

January 23, 2022: Winter is On

It looks like we're going to have a real winter this year - in New Hampshire as well as the rest of the East Coast.  Saturday morning brought us the coldest temperatures we've had in three years:  -9.8 degrees on our thermometer.  But at least it's been calm, and as the cold strips the moisture out of the air it brings along some brilliant blue-sky days.

Looking north over Winnipesaukee from Weirs Beach on Friday.

From reports I've heard, all of the lakes are frozen over now but that doesn't mean they're all safe yet.  Certainly Wicwas has been safe for quite a while and I've seen ATVs and snowmobiles on Winnisquam and Paugus Bay.  

Bob houses and plenty of snowmobiles on Lake Wicwas.

The good news is the winter events are all good to go:  Pond Hockey, the fishing derby, the Meredith Conservation Commission outing at Page Pond; even the Alton Bay ice runway should be opening soon - it currently has ten inches of ice and they are planning to plow it on January 26th based on the forecast for continued cold weather.  Hopefully the Sled Dog races scheduled for February 11-13th will also be able to run.

One conspicuous sign of cold air is a jet's condensation trail, or contrail.  

I think that's an Emirates Airline flight heading east over New Hampshire on it's way to Europe.

Contrails are made by water vapor which is a by-product of the engine's combustion freezing in the cold air; they're clear and sharp when it's this cold but they don't linger when the air is so dry because they're quickly absorbed into the atmosphere.  

Even on cold days the bright sun, already noticeably higher in the sky, sets the stage for outdoor activities on the lakes and mountains, though tracking opportunities haven't been very good due a thin crust on top of the snow.  That means no tracks are left by anything lighter than say a deer, and those larger animals stay close to their deer yards as they don't like punching their hooves down through the sharp crust - it can cut their legs and also makes it nearly impossible for them to outrun a predator.  But even when there are no tracks to be seen there's usually something interesting to be found out in the winter world.  On one snowshoe trip I came across a charming little bird nest lying right in the middle of the unbroken trail.  

A forgotten birds nest blown to the center of the trail.

I believe it's a goldfinch nest - it's the right size and shape, and assembled with pine needles and soft plant fibers.  The architect's meticulous construction kept the nest intact through time and weather, even after finally being ripped from its fork in a tree by the wind after the last storm.

This sturdy nest is about three inches across.

A goldfinch nest is built entirely by the female and it takes her about six days to complete it.  [Ref:  Cornell Lab of Ornithology]  She usually builds it in the fork of a small tree near the edge of an open area that has flowers and weeds and other field-based plants with the small seeds that goldfinches prefer.

During its use the inside would have been lined with soft down for the eggs and newly hatched chicks.  Goldfinches don't reuse a nest the following year so it's not a concern for the owner that it blew away.  I thought about popping it into my pack to bring home for our nature collection but elected to leave it in the trail for the next hiker to enjoy.

I mentioned deer earlier, and someone (thanks JP!) sent me a nighttime photo of a nice buck visiting their yard.

A white tail deer avoids the crusty snow.  Photo by Jackie Powell.

It shows how deer will take advantage of plowed roadways for safe (from predators, not vehicles) and energy efficient travel routes.  That nice set of antlers will be falling off soon.  I've never found an antler on the ground - the small critters of the woods gobble them up quickly to take advantage of their high nutrient content including calcium which is scarce in New England forests.

I'll end with another cold weather phenomenon, this one seen in a shallow pool in a small, slow moving stream.

Ice crystals form atop gently flowing water.

Whether it's snowshoeing, skiing, ice fishing, or simple beauty, cold air and water combine in many ways for our winter enjoyment.

 

January 16, 2022: Winter-Only Access

One of my favorite aspects of winter is being able to access some really neat places that one just can't get to when the world isn't frozen into a solid block of ice.  Last week a backcountry ski excursion with a couple of skiing companions (thanks T&L H!) in the Hamlin conservation area brought us to this bizarre sight in the middle of Double-dammed Beaver Pond:

A lone spire stands in Double-dammed Pond.

We just stared at it for while trying to understand what it was all about.

Our conclusion is that the tree died as the beavers dammed the pond high enough to drown its roots, and over time the cambium and the sapwood in the tree trunk rotted away.  Yet the sturdy, dry, dead heartwood, strengthened with lignin, survived the years and kept the tree standing.  Also surviving while the layers between the bark and heartwood decomposed, was a section of outer bark.  

The outer bark's purpose in life is to protect a tree from weather and insects, and this demonstrates its tenacity in fulfilling its mission even long after the tree is past the point of no return.  This ring of bark is apparently suspended by a spur on the trunk, with the holes in the porous bark letting the wind whip through it over the years as it hung on trying to do its part in the life of the tree.

The US Forest Service has this image and associated description of the anatomy of a tree on its website.

I'd say this is a yellow birch based on the appearance of the bark and the fact that swamps are listed as habitat for yellow birch.  It's yet another first for me in a never ending path of discovery as I wander through the wonders of nature.

Here's another object that I learn more about in winter than in summer.

Beaver lodges, though covered with snow, can be observed up close in winter.

In winter one can tell if a beaver lodge is occupied or not by the vent holes - if occupied there will be ice crystals on a frigid day as the humid breath of the inhabitants freezes as it exits the warmth of the lodge.  Then there are the tracks in the snow which reveal what animals visit the lodge.  I often see mouse and fox tracks running to and over a beaver lodge in winter, the mouse looking for a warm and safe place to live, the fox most certainly following their odors in search of a meal.  This week I saw something I haven't before: weasel tracks leading right into this beaver lodge through a tiny hole.  

In we go.

Seeing only a single set of tracks I thought, could a weasel be living in there?  I know beavers allow other animals such as mice and muskrats to share their lodge, but a weasel?  Well, there on the other side of the lodge was the exit track.  The weasel evidently went in one side and out the other.  

And out we come.

I'll never know if it caught a mouse as it passed through.

The tracks leading away from the lodge say "weasel" - a narrow pair of prints side-by-side in a straight line as the weasel bounds along. 

A trademark weasel print.

There are several members of the weasel family in New Hampshire but these are probably from a mink or maybe an ermine.  Being near water, I'll guess mink.

Going a few days without snow lends some new information about wildlife activity around the lakes.  While fresh snow every few days covers up prior tracks, a few clear days provides data on the most popular wildlife trails.  This route is clearly an animal superhighway.

Interchange 7 on the Wicwas Turnpike

Along this route I saw the tracks of fox, coyote, and river otter as well as lots of mice leading on and off the ice.

This week one of our fellow bird watchers noted how many birds were at their feeders on these cold mornings (thank you RP!).  A cold snap like this means those birds have to replenish all the extra calories they burn every night just to keep warm.  And they seem to be bolder in getting that needed sustenance - I was standing just two feet away from a feeder and that didn't slow them down one bit.

Incoming!

On the subject of birds, did you hear about the rare Stellers Sea-Eagle that's travelled from Alaska to New England?   (Thanks NM for sharing this story!)  It's the largest raptor in the world, and it's first time one has ever been observed here.  It's a rare bird with only 4000 on the planet and it's causing quite a stir in the birding community.  The Steller Sea-Eagle has a life span of 30 years, so if it decides it likes New England, it's conceivable another bird could come along, they could mate, and they could establish a community here.  It's even possible it could mate with a resident bald eagle.  But it's more likely it will move on, living a life as a lonely vagrant travelling around the continent.  It was seen most recently two days ago in Boothbay Maine.  I should take a trip up to Maine to look for it!

I'll close with one more neat perspective of the world as seen from the surface of a frozen-solid Lake Wicwas.

Hemlock cones hang over Lake Wicwas.

Nature's beauty is everywhere.

January 9, 2021: Snow and Snowbirds

Last week it was the goldfinches that came out in droves - and they are still here - but this week, along with the snow on Friday, the juncos, aka snowbirds, made their appearance.  

Dark-eyed juncos arrived with the snow this week.

Juncos used to be considered as five unique species but were recently grouped into a single species named the dark-eyed junco.  They're commonly known as snowbirds because they so often appear along with the snow just as they did this week.  I haven't been able to find any concrete data that there is an actual correlation with snow so maybe they're just suddenly more visible against a white world rather than blending into the environment.  Range maps show they're in New Hampshire year round and I do see them at high elevation in the White Mountains during the summer, so they are always here.  They also breed farther north in Canada but don't remain there in winter, instead migrating southward so there are likely many more here when the weather gets cold.

Research has found that females migrate farther south than males do during the cold months.  A theory for this is that because the male locates and defends a pair's mating territory in the spring they need to get back to their breeding grounds first.  The females can come along later after the homestead is settled and just move in with their partner.

Dark-eyed juncos are a member of the sparrow family, foraging mostly on the ground for seeds though in summer they eat insects and will even flit up quickly to catch a bug on the wing - they are quite nimble fliers.

Juncos most often consume seeds.  And yes, birds have tongues!

Their primary feeding area being on the ground may explain why they're seen at feeders when the snow comes - with the forest floor covered they go in search of other food sources.  And perhaps they migrate south as the snow pack advances southward, staying near the boundary of snow and bare ground to find a compromise between access to food and a quick return to their breeding territory in spring.

Even though juncos go south for a warmer climate (they consider New Hampshire warm?) their insulation increases significantly; their feathers increase in weight by 30% in winter.  [Ref:  Birds and Blooms]   Building their nest on the ground, their dark-colored upper body is valuable in avoiding predators and it must work as juncos have long life spans, up to 11 years. [ibid]  Still, like many bird species, their population has declined dramatically, being reduced by a full 50% since 1966.  [Ref:  Cornell Lab of Ornithology]

Before the snowbirds appeared there was some great skating out on the smaller lakes.

Glassy ice before the snow made for smooth skating on Lake Wicwas.

I saw the first bob house on Wicwas on one skating trip around the lake.

The first bob house for the year on Wicwas.

The larger lakes are still open with very little ice cover on Meredith Bay, but there's still plenty of time for it to freeze over before the big Pond Hockey event on February 4th - 6th.  Even on the small lakes there are still open holes around the edges where streams flow into the lake.

This is the place to look for signs of otter activity!

On Tuesday, also before the snow, I took a hike up the Turtleback Mountain trail in the Ossipee Range on a crystal clear day.

The Turtleback Mountain Trail will be void of snowmobiles until the snow cover increases.

Heading down I stopped for a drink of water and set my pack on a large rock.

That's when I noticed, alive and thriving in a crack in this boulder, in the cold of winter, were a few tufts of green grass!

I'm sure the sun warming the rock with its large thermal mass helps keep things warm, but it's still an impressive feat for a small plant to be eking out a living in this tiny fissure in the cold of January.  And it shows that by hiding in this seam, a few little grass seeds escaped the beaks of those seed-seeking snowbirds.  

Whether mother nature brings us rain or snow, snowbirds or skatebirds, there's always something to see and do in the Lakes Region.

The low January sun backlights a majestic red oak.

January 2, 2022: Happy New Year!

2022 entered the same way 2021 departed:  with a warm, foggy day.  It's been a mild winter so far but at least there have been regular snow falls to keep the ground white through this stretch of warm weather.  I've had several nice ski trips in the woods and on the lake but at this point the lake is mushy and I question the integrity of the ice near shore so I'll wait for a few cold nights before venturing out again.  

The soft snow has been good for both animal and human activity.  On a ski trip in the Red Hill Conservation Area in Moultonborough I saw countless deer tracks in the snow all along the trail and heading off into the woods.  One trail that I followed led me to an area where the deer had been foraging for acorns under the soft snow.

Deer were busy here gathering that high-energy food source.

The deer trail leading to the forage area.

All the animals will happily take advantage of the warm weather and thin snow cover to add to their winter reserves, whether in their body fat or in their food stashes.  I'm seeing lots of signs of red squirrels collecting seeds and nuts including blankets of shredded hemlock-cones all over the snow.

Hundreds of tiny hemlock cone scales stripped away to access the seeds hidden inside.

It must take a lot of patience to pull apart that many hemlock cones for such a tiny seed.

But then, what else does a squirrel have to do all winter?

The gray squirrels have found the bird feeders and are now chasing each other around, trying to defend different areas to protect a food source they want to call their own.  We're able to (mostly) keep them off the bird feeders by giving them a couple of their own feeding stations with squirrel-preferred food.  With so many squirrels and the myriad bobcat tracks around the house, maybe we'll witness some bobcat-squirrel interactions this winter.

It's great to have bird feeders out again to watch the variety of birds and their behavior, while hoping the warm weather doesn't bring the bears back out.  So far we've seen most of the common winter birds:  chick-a-dees, nuthatches, titmice, goldfinches, juncos, mourning doves, downy woodpeckers, and the now-becoming-common red-bellied woodpecker.  Not yet making an appearance are the hairy woodpecker, pileated woodpecker, house finch, and purple finch.  After not having many goldfinches last year, this winter we are inundated, especially on warm, damp days when they commandeer the feeder.

Goldfinches storm the feeder.

And they are pretty aggressive towards each other and other birds in defending their food.

"Stay off my feeder!"

Unlike a chick-a-dee which will take a seed and fly off to eat it, goldfinches like to hang out on the feeder and eat.  With their unique beaks they can park themselves at a feeding perch and open and eat seed after seed.  But a bold chick-a-dee or nuthatch will eventually barge in to displace a finch from its perch and grab a seed for itself.

From these pictures you're probably thinking we had nothing but snowy, overcast skies, but there were moments of bright winter weather as well.

A bright sunny end to a ski day on the lake.

Now it's time for 2022 to bring in some real winter weather.

Happy New Year from Lake Wicwas!